misaligned

if you think i
will fall that easily into your arms
pay an arm and a leg
to make you happy
and whistle while i work

if you think i
am your easy listening station
your weekly ration of food
your proof of success
a battle won while sleeping

if you think i
can solve your pains
will hear your sorrows
and mend them with
my own sad hands

if you think i
am capable of loving you
am the one who knows you like
no other

if you think i
see that you are something special
see where you came from
see where you are going
care about your every move

if you think i
want to know your history
want to seal your past with
strawberry lip-gloss kisses
and carefully placed praise
of your many, so many, talents

if you think i
am the one who will save you
serve you
be with you till the end
get you through
get you up
teach you the rest of the story
and tell you the rest of the idea

if you think i
will let you make me feel crazy
and give up my world for yours
and
will ask me for what you could
never give
then you are partially right
and you are just like
all the others.

feral

this time of year the
highway
(or is it freeway)
has red dots of broken tomatoes
on its shoulders
and the drivers of those
trucks
sway and dart untrained
along the asphalt

when i arrive at my
parents' house
the aroma greets me before they do
dad is canning tomatoes
he wears a safeway apron backwards
that no doubt came from a dumpster
and there is a shopping cart in the
backyard
full of wool for my mother's spinning

he is peeling tomatoes
and she is pulling stickers out of
buffalo down
i find a cat that will tolerate my
petting
and settle down in the cool grass
prepared to listen to their stories
one at a time

most of them are scavenger stories
wool, taxi cab signs, lamps and a
vase for me, held up by white frogs
one of which is missing a foot

i do my own scavenging at their house
basil leaves and a toad that immediately
pees on my hands
but lets me pet him more than any of the
cats that skitter around when i come near

germaine is the name i choose for the black kitten
that tolerates my touch
he has one white whisker and
purrs while looking at me perplexedly

i leave after a few hours
of watching them steadily stirring
tomatoes
and picking at buffalo down

by the time i leave
germaine is scared of me again
always ironic to me
how all those cats are frightened
of the love we want to share with them

rather hard to be thwarted in attempts
to make another feel good
rather sad to feel the impotence of
misunderstanding
when you mean so well

strange that i still try.

wide awake

"1, 2, 3 [snap fingers], WIDE AWAKE"
suddenly we are all alert in our folding chairs
audience chuckling at our various states of hypnosis
eating their corn dogs and telling their kids to sit still a little longer

he has trained us to be dolly partons, roosters crowing,
elvis and in love with the person next to us
there is a ringer
he is the shoe-stealer
stuffs all of our shoes in his clothing
as the audience howls with laughter
but i know he's a fake because i saw him do it before

and what about the rest of us?
are we so eager for a laugh that we will pretend we are under this spell?
so eager that even in my bed
at 5 am
i am suddenly wide awake
and doing as i was told

churning my emotions like butter and
looking for any old soul to curl up next to
finding no one and no laughs to encourage much effort

i'd rather be like the magician than the hypnotist
pulling fanciful items out of my top hat
i'd choose a rabbit over everything else, though
soft, easy, innocent
nuzzles me like a scared child
doesn't know any better
trusts me like i am home
rather than the great manipulator of its life

wide awake
at 5am
i do as i was told
i am the damn bunny
and i just want to crawl back into that top hat
and i just want to get off this stage

stuck.

here is where i step to the left and make my way out of this portrait
it's me, in the sand, on the beach, hair blowing, simplicity flowing, and instead of romping i am
stuck.
sand in my shoes,
full
barely room for my toes.
rocks on either sides of my feet, heavy; serious about their stance.
i am in black and white
my attempt at color is thwarted
my blemishes are hiding and
i'm still as a broken clock

this night will last longer than many
this night will remind me of past nights,
friends in pain, me dug into my rut by hand, by foot, by no fault of mine and by every whim
too much wine, an outburst at the dinner table,
a permanent view of the ocean, who moves more than i ever could
because i'm stuck.
i am in this abandoned hotel of a brain
slinking through hallways of old dusty memories and
collecting rusty room keys like they hold a story that matters
playing with perfume bottles that have long since lost their liquid but still
puff-puff air out with a faint scent of something ladylike

my nails painted, my hair blowing, my perma-stare directed where i'll never go
these stones are my friends
holding my ground with me
weighted and waiting
for me to be unstuck
but there is no other way i know
it is who i am
i am still when it is time for me to move
because who am i without those holding me down?

climbing out one word at a time. . . .

my strangest relationship

one day it will catch up with me. one day all of the people who have waited for me in my life will revolt, and i will be left with no one. undoubtedly.
i have six watches. none have batteries.
i don't live by time like you do. i don't plan things out based on the minute/hour/day/year system.
i feel them out and wonder where i'll be and how i'll be feeling and if i will be in the mood to wear a skirt that day.
you are always waiting for me. any of you. coffee date, lunchtime, beer downtown, trip to san fran, costco run.
time and i just don't get along. shouldn't say that. time and i just don't know each other very well. strangers. but i've heard a lot about time. and time has no patience for me. it doesn't ever slow down and understand that when i'm walking out the door to an appointment i, without fail, get a phone call of some kind of crisis and am waylayed and am therefore...late.
always late.
but in an alternate universe i'm early, i guarantee you. betcha.
for something really super great.

house shopping.

this one's too new.

sequins really don't matter.

in my good riddance party dress.

it's time.

cuckoo.